


I Wanna Wrap My Arms Around Your Heart, But I'm At a Loss for Words to Say

by CoverFireGoddess880 (orphan_account)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Sex, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Language, Shower Sex, World of Ruin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-24 01:52:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13800882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/CoverFireGoddess880
Summary: Even at the end of the world, words are dropped to the ground and swept under the rug. They just don't seem to matter anymore.





	I Wanna Wrap My Arms Around Your Heart, But I'm At a Loss for Words to Say

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by the Final Fantasy XV Royal Edition trailer. An idea popped into my head after watching it again, and after seeing Noct, still so beautifully scruffy at 30 doing more than just meeting his death in silence... I had to write this!
> 
> It's GladNoct, of course, because they are so special to me. Also, double bonus points for both of them being so scruffy and sexy ^0^
> 
> Title is taken from the song, "Say the Word" by WhiteHeart.

“Brothers and sisters,”

The flame was lit once again in the darkest places of their hearts, breathed into a never ending flicker of hope.

“I ask you to stand by me, and fight at my side.”

Rekindled cinders of faith burst forth and permeated their weary bones, clinging to them, and restoring strength once lost.

“For the Light… and for the future of our world!”

He watched from behind, standing ever vigilant with a hand over his heart, shiny copper eyes swearing fealty behind scrunched eyelids. In a moment of weakness, hardly ever a word spoken of his caliber, he willed his knees to seize quaking. He opened his eyes right as the king raised his fisted salute to his soldiers, his people, his _family_ , reminding himself to take deep breaths every other second in order to remain as he was.

The person before him had changed, truly changed to the point where he couldn’t exactly remember that beautiful, familiar boy he used to know and love. But no longer was he a ‘boy’ in his eyes. This person stood, strong and proud after ten long years, a man- no, a king. He was so different... More different than he ever imagined he would be. And that night Ardyn stole him from them, his cruel deception no less painful than the hard truth he spit at their feet.

Chained to the reality of a world without Noctis, his sorrow dragged him to the edge of insanity; the mere shell of a man, unbelieving and turning his back on the gods and their selfish prophecies.

Deep inside, Gladio knew it would be different. A stark, scary contrast to the world he once lived in back when the sun still awoke beyond the horizon, when he turned in his sleep and stared straight into those familiar dark blue eyes. If only he had been faster, more diligent and responsible enough to mark himself wrong for his attitude, than maybe he wouldn’t have lost so much of their lives together. If he had the chance to correct it, he’d take it in a heartbeat and accept the dishonorable reprieve come with it.

The last words spoken between them sold Noctis on his knees, the anger burning him down into smouldering depression, yet he still found the strength to carry on without ever looking back. He certainly was his father’s son, despite all the burdens hanging heavy on his thin, frail shoulders and pulling him toward the depths of despair. So enraged with his own self worth and conflicting duty, Gladio had unintentionally blinded himself to all the things Noctis needed from him, robbed himself of how fulfilling it would feel to reep of Noctis’s love before he vanished from the world for too long a dark and eternal decade.

His fellow Kingsglaive soldiers roared their cheers, solemn faces still able to break out and flash alight in bravery. Their king had been returned to them, the hope that the Chosen would banish the darkness and usher in a new era of peace basking in the glorious light of day forever fixed. Even Cor Leonis, so aged and so immortally courageous as was due his achievements, bowed in reverence to his king. How could he have once thought Noctis so… _weak_?

His gaze shifted to his friends beside him, Ignis and Prompto, standing just as firm and loyal as he, their arms shaking across their chests when Noctis spoke for them all. But his eyes always landed back on Noctis when his thoughts lay empty and bare inside his mind, heart threatening to break his rib cage. He couldn’t focus anymore, he needed Noctis alone and in a quiet place. He didn’t know what for just yet, but his soul cried out for solace and for Noctis’s soft, sweet form in his arms.

In the midst of the whole-hearted cheers and applause from the crowd of soldiers, Gladio fell victim to his own secret emotions. The same ones he believed he could lock away for both of their sakes… The same ones he thought he had thrown to the wind ten years ago... But before he could be willing to toss the key, he had to know…

He needed to _understand_. And the feeling was mutual.

-

The hot water felt like heaven running over his sore muscles, wrapping him in a warm embrace as the steam swirled up his body. After that grueling sequence of battles against the daemons that had conquered the blackened streets of Insomnia, he confided in Ignis with great reluctance that he needed a rest: sleep, food, and a hot shower. He brought his hands over his face standing under the warm stream and breathed a sigh of bittersweet relief, replaying the events of the evening in his head.

Fingers threading through the dark, stubble hairs of his new beard, he laughed to himself, never quite thinking he could ever get away with sporting one. But it seemed to match his new look: older, having a lot more pain in his back than he remembered, and being almost the mirror image of his father struck him fatally in the heart each time he stared back at his reflection.

Noctis still couldn’t believe he had made it this far. It all had a strange effect on him and he hoped these nervous flutters were just the result of hunger. Was he ready for this? Had he truly fanned the flames in the hearts of his people, ready to rally beside their king to fight for the Light? Could they truly bring it back? His brain felt so bloated, like it might explode if he didn’t stop stumbling through his doubts.

His fist made contact with the wall. Frustrated, he shut his eyes and stood resting his forehead against the wet tiles. Though he had made his peace and had mentally and physically prepared himself for this night, he felt like… he was missing _something_. He wanted reassurance, to be told that it would all be alright… That it was okay to let go of himself for the sake of the world.

Someone stepped in the back of the tub, someone heavy. They didn't bother to quiet their movements, they had no need to. Trust lingered in the warmth and radiance of steam as said person closed the curtain and pushed it against the wall behind them. Noctis turned and opened his eyes, sapphire greeting copper without a word. Gladio stood as naked as the day he was born, every part of his body as huge and intimidating as his surprisingly gentle demeanor. Noctis’s expression lay blank but watchful, his gaze captured by the beautiful man in front of him. They stared at one another, only breaking to sweep across and take in the wonderful, naturally beautiful features of their bodies they had long ago come to appreciate just as much as their personalities.

Whenever Gladio was granted the privilege to see Noctis naked and bare to the tiniest inklings of soft, dark curls below his waistline, his face blazed red and his breathing quickened, hitching when the mere thought of touching such a gorgeous human being overloaded the confines of his consciously dutiful mind. But this was the first time he had been blessed with such a sight of his king in ten years, every bit if not more beautiful than the day he disappeared. He was mesmerized by the image his drenched, limp raven hair hugging his stubbled face presented; entranced by how masculine he had grown, a man he couldn’t resist his big hands invisibly reaching for.

Gods, if Noctis were a woman, Gladio humors himself at the prospect of how many love children they would have, conceived in many a fevered night of passion. He knew it was wrong to imagine Noctis in those ways of illicit intimacy and clandestine lust as nothing would ever come of it, not even in his most tantalizing of fantasies. Noctis was king. He, just a lowly shield in the service of his liege, nothing more and nothing less.

Yet, Gladio couldn’t deny anything he felt for Noctis. He could never admit how much he desired to be with him, love so fleeting and so far from him in the line of duty. And being here, on the cusp of destruction, death, and the inevitable chance of failure ‘round every corner, he felt he was fighting a losing battle; at war with his obstinate adoration. And he longed for peace to claim its victory. He had grown tired of waiting.

In Noctis’s eyes, Gladio didn’t have to try to strive for anything better than who he was.He was just… Gladio. And nothing else, he was certain, could ever match the humble strength that bore Gladiolus Amicitia along in this life. Stubbornness acquiesced how many times Noctis denied himself the love he harbored for his shield. For many, many years he nursed the wounds festering in his heart, the ones he himself had cut open out of hesitation. If Noctis had been born into this world a regular, average human, he’d have said ‘yes’ to every pang of desire.

But life wasn’t ever so simple, nor so merciful. Duty outweighed love as a monarch, and in the scheme of things, it seemed futile to even wish for such a life of freedom and choice. Noctis used to dread those nights out in the wild or in a temporary motel room, before he closed his eyes in slumber and he lay awake flush beside Gladio’s large, comforting form. It tortured him to no end. His desire to crawl over him and pepper his perfectly toned torso in loving kisses faded once he finally gave in to sleep, beckoning him to the dark and scolding him with nightmares for ever indulging those thoughts.

He knows Gladio loves him. He knows, but at the same time, he can’t believe it until it slams him to the ground, holds him down and fucks him senselessly blind.

Noctis had locked himself away since his unexpected rapture, prisoner to his own soul.

He couldn’t help the surge of overwhelming guilt he felt once his eyes traced those treacherous paths of what must have been near-fatal scars on Gladio’s smooth expanse of muscle. He lived a maimed creature, his marred flesh constantly reminding Noctis the sole reason Gladio existed. He turned in on himself again, blaming the gift of his own life for keeping Gladio from living his.

He finally looked away in shame, sucking his teeth as if it hurt.

As if Gladio read so well the lines of stress ingrained in the king’s face, knew every guilty thought processed in his already cluttered mind, he stepped forward and rubbed over Noctis’s arms before he shoved him roughly, yet gentle enough and lacking any pain, against the wall. In an instant, Noctis appeared frightened, shocked, and purely curious all at once leaving Gladio to ponder what he was searching for here as his grip on his king’s arms intensified.

Affirmation, right? Or could it be something more? Mere flirtation? A chance to hold onto him until that point in the last leg of their journey when he wouldn’t be able to even reach him? The gods be damned, he wished he hadn’t whispered ‘Because I love you’ in his head so loudly. If Noctis heard him, he’d only be placing another burden on him that he just didn’t need nor could he handle.

So, he settled himself in a deep breath, avoiding Noctis’s gaze as he gripped his arms and released a couple times. An answer he found within himself that yes, Noctis was _here_. In his arms, alive, visible, naked, and altogether vulnerable.

Now, he decided he’d take this moment. He’d take this last hour to let himself feel so desperate, so needy, so comforted, even if he never allowed it again. This was the only chance he would get, and it had to be done now before he lost Noctis for the last time.

He leaned forward, eyes ogling those soft lips as he captured them before Noctis could protest. Eyes clenched shut, he kissed him feverishly and passionately, tongue pushing forward to dominate his, parading his own strength as he inched ever closer to Noctis and towered over him. The kiss was intense and hard, not unlike their previous battles. Noctis moaned softly, trembling and sinking down a bit as Gladio’s weight threw him off balance. He tried to pick his arms up but found them bound tightly against the wall, Gladio’s grip almost paralyzing on his thinner bones. He moaned louder when Gladio’s mouth pressed further and ferociously silenced him, big hands releasing his arms and cupping his stubbled cheeks; the pressure in his limbs finally subsiding in red finger marks.

No noise came from Gladio. His only goal right now was to make sure Noctis felt him more than he felt himself. He didn’t stop and he still hadn’t broken the kiss, even when Noctis pulled his wrists downward and tried to breathe through parted lips, a shaky whine telling him to back off now. He slobbered on him like a possessive dog on his favorite and only chew toy, smothering him with breathless kisses. He didn’t listen, his feelings and all the pent up emotions raging inside of him had the chance to run free and he couldn’t control himself, not even to let Noctis have a second to catch his breath.

Tonight, Noctis belonged to him. Noctis was his and he wasn’t about to let go of him yet, not until he felt it was time to do so.

Noctis understood then, his hands smoothly sliding down Gladio’s massive arms, fingers gliding across his abs and palms resting on them in such a way that made his shield finally groan at the contact. Noctis’s gentle touch shot lightning bolting through every nerve, his spine tingling in the aftermath.

This was Noctis, touching him, caught between his lips, shadowed by his enormous body… Yes, this was Noctis.

Soon, after being kissed so roughly against the wall too long that it made his back ache, Noctis ever so gently pushed on him. But still, Gladio would not break from his saliva drenched lips. He pushed again, harder this time but just tender enough, hoping he’d coax him into releasing his mouth so he could… speak? No, what would he say? What could he say? His whole body felt aflame, his own desire hot and eager for more than just a kiss. He just needed him _off_. He needed to _breathe_.

Noctis let out a cry when Gladio bit his lip upon retreating at last, tasting copper as he licked his lips. Palms still flat against Gladio’s impressive abs, Noctis dared to look into those wild, honeyed eyes with as much innocence as he could muster. Neither of them smiled, their faces not even hinting at any happiness. Gladio’s fiery stare bore into Noctis’s dark blue oceans and lit them, a soft glow warming the bottom of his irises. There was no exchange of words, only wonderment at the rate at which this affair escalated.

That kiss… Noctis felt the selfishness in it. He felt the frustration, the anger, the urgency… He felt so many feelings he harbored in his own heart. And it was only the beginning. Noctis looked down and saw the pink, leaking tip straining high between Gladio’s thighs, and it brought him back to the fact that he too was longing for the same thing. But he couldn’t find the courage to reach out and stroke him, to give him that pleasure and release he was waiting for.

Instead, he cupped Gladio’s scruffy cheek and just gazed at him- lovingly? Or perhaps longingly? Godsdammit, he had no clue what he wanted or what he was looking for, lost in the dizzy drunkenness of arousal. He stared at him, just stared as if he were searching for an answer beyond recognition. Something that would pop up out of nowhere and scream, ‘YES!’. Tongue-tied, and unable to admit he was spiralling toward the end of the line, he stood on his toes and kissed at the decades-old vertical scar along his eye.

The one scar he picked out especially for himself, but only because it was true. It was earned in honor of Noctis.

Then he backed away. Gladio’s eyes told him, spoke to him of just what he wanted in spite of how unaware the bigger man was of himself. And Noctis followed that subtle, almost command, and turned toward the wall. His sapphires gazed heavenward for a minute as he murmured a silent prayer to any forsaken god that was listening, a plea for this to be _real_. To feel real. For the whole godsdamn thing to mean something more than just a quiet, sudden fling.

 _Shit_. Gladio was here with him, _alone_. They could do anything, they could kiss till their lips swelled up and bled, they could fuck as long as they wanted, or needed, till they were crying in each other’s arms and writhing on the porcelain floor of the shower. They could ruin each other, they could break every rule and not give a good godsdamn about who knew or who heard the shouts and screams of one another’s names in ecstasy.

So, they would.

Noctis lifted his leg up on the side of the tub and braced himself against the wall, his nerves getting the best him as he shivered more from them than from the cold of the tiles. Presented with Noctis’s beautiful, milky backside and that small mark of a crippling injury etched forever into his spine, Gladio felt so honored and so damn pleased. It took everything he had not to sweep him up in his arms and squeeze him so possessively to himself, the fact so unbearably strong that he had him at the mercy of his hands.

Completely adverse to the idea of taking it so painstakingly slow, still, he restrained himself and gently gathered Noctis in the broad crooks of his arms while intentionally stepping closer and straddling his tailbone. He kissed at the back of his head, small pecks at first then deeper, nose nuzzling into and burying itself within the soft silkiness of Noctis’s ashen crown as he kneaded the tender flesh of his abs. Noctis dropped his head, the heat and heaviness of Gladio’s presence and tender caressing exhausting him to the point of weakness.

This was all so new to him, having been a virgin up till now. Yes, Noctis was still a virgin at the age of 30, and though they had discussed it albeit briefly in their younger years, Gladio assured him he wouldn’t even entertain the idea of touching him until he was ready. He respected that it wasn’t his place nor his right to take so sacred a thing from Noctis before he had been asked, no matter how much he desired to or how deeply in love with him he was.

Though Noctis had often, _very_  often contemplated that tempting offer, he decided it would be best for them to wait until things calmed down for all of them. But that was the problem though, it wouldn’t have been sex for the sake of love. It would have been out of convenience, release; an escape and a way to deal with so many heavy emotions surfacing from the prince’s daily hormonal challenges.

At least, that’s what they both convinced themselves of.

Sometimes, oftentimes really, when they would stay in a motel with two people in each bed, Noctis would toss and turn and fight against his sexual needs without giving in and touching himself. And it wasn’t like his friends never noticed. Ignis had approached him one time and asked if it was the nightmares that kept him up all night. Well, it was, but not the kind of nightmares his advisor had in mind. He advised him to remember that hard times exist in life for everyone, and should he need a shoulder to lean on or someone to talk to, he’d be there.

But boy, was that ever a mistake. Embarrassment painted red all over Noctis’s face when he discussed the subject with Ignis, who acted as if someone had just told him he would die tomorrow. When asked if it was okay or right to feel such feelings for his shield, Ignis brushed off the entire thing and assured the troubled prince it would all work itself out once he married Lady Lunafreya.

Prompto was a bit harder to avoid, constantly prodding at the prince’s stubborn yet sensitive emotions about the whole thing. Now Noctis didn’t know if Prompto felt the same way he did or not, but his best friend had once asked him if he had tried to solve the problem himself by… y’know, sticking his hand into his pants when alone? So then he must have known that yes, it was completely normal to feel these things so strongly in a young, testosterone-fueled, adolescent body - if Prompto suggested the same thing his mind told him. And he was eternally grateful for Prompto from that point forward.

It was hard to resist, and every time he touched himself and came all over his fingers, he’d hate feeling guilt for doing it and be content for resenting himself so bitterly. He wanted _real_  hands to touch him, someone to whisper sweet words into his ear as he shuddered pre-orgasm, to make love to him and replace that doubt with firm and grounded certainty that it was okay to love Gladio, his shield: the only man he fully trusted with his life, and the only man he was sure he had just enough room for in his heart.

He wanted _Gladio_  to touch him.

A broad hand sliding over his spine snapped Noctis back into reality. Gladio was touching him, really and consensually _touching_  him. He moaned and threw his head back against the faded eagle’s head painted on his lover’s shoulder, his hair splaying itself across the crook of his neck. Gladio took this opportunity to attack Noctis’s throat, kissing and licking like he’d found a juicy morsel of meat. Then he bit down. Hard. And Noctis sucked on his wounded bottom lip to stifle his cry, finding it one of the most difficult things to do.

Calloused thumbs rubbed over hard, perky nipples and squeezed them, and the whine that left Noctis’s lips shouldn’t have sounded so heavenly to him. Gladio trailed his kisses down to the middle of Noctis’s shoulder blades, hands moving further downward to massage his soft, lean belly. His finger twirled inside his belly button, tickling him and causing him to shudder in a breath of laughter.

Noctis’s body littered itself in goosebumps, the tingling in his nerves proving too much for him to handle as he held on to Gladio’s hands where they massaged up and down along his ribs. Breathing was a challenge. His breaths came out short and hitchy, his heartbeat in a race with his panting trying to find his euphoric rhythm. He couldn’t believe how good this felt, how amazing it was to be touched like this and to be fondled like he was something special.

But he was special, and Gladio needed him to know that as he returned to his nape and bit sideways, his hickey resembling some strange, heart shaped redness. Noctis gasped, letting his foot slip off the side of the tub a little. “ _Noct_ ,” Gladio whispered hoarsely, teeth grazing Noctis’s throat as he supported his lover’s leg with his own stacked under it. He wanted to say more, something that might calm his king enough to where he could continue. The last thing he wanted was to hurt him. A short, troubled groan as he accidentally stuffed his hardened cock between Noctis’s ass cheeks gave Noctis the notion that his lover was struggling to find words.

It made him happy and relieved to know Gladio was just as nervous as he was, arching a bit from the pressure pressed near his arse. He breathed deeply, knowing just what to tell him. “I know,” he replies softly. “You don’t want to hurt me.”

Agreement came in the form of a kiss, soft and sweet on his shoulder. Noctis felt the jittery tension in Gladio’s lips against his skin, shaky with every kiss. He reached back and laid his arm across Gladio’s neck to pull him closer, his lover’s hair finally feeling wet enough to be washed as he spread his thighs wider in preparation for the inevitable.

He let out a shaky breath, watching as his hardening member slowly rose and throbbed against his abdomen and begged for him to touch himself. Gladio saw this and took it upon himself to prep his lover for intercourse, shamelessly grabbing the soap and gently prying Noctis’s cheeks open to lubricate. Clenching his eyes shut, Noctis tried to maintain some form of sanity by counting how many seconds it took Gladio to prepare his hole and compared it to the number of breaths in between.

Gladio: an even 20, Noctis: an astonishing 40. Though it was clear that the king was overreacting a bit too much to the whole idea,who could blame his innocent, virgin mind for his lack of calm? His rapid gasps more than made up for the amount of massages Gladio kneaded into his arse, and in that short time, he was ready.

A finger squirmed its way in to Noctis’s hole, gently inching forward to spread him wider for the girth that was to take its place in a few moments. Noctis was tense, tense and unable to breathe properly as he arched up against the wall and huffed from the pressure intensifying in his bottom. Gladio shushed him, guiding his hand to rest at his tailbone in an attempt to comfort him. “It’s alright,” he says, quiet, low, and similar to the tender breath of an angel. “I’m right here.”

Another finger joined in the labor and spread him further, struggling to move in the tightness of Noctis’s body. “Ah-” he gasped, gripping Gladio’s hand hard. But he wasn’t going to lose it now, he forced himself to stay in control as hard as it was by inhaling through his nose, and steadily exhaling through pursed lips. This felt a lot more grueling than all the battles he’d been through.

After a few simple thrusts, Gladio withdrew his fingers to let Noctis catch his breath and relax before he took him. He stood there, knees shaking and thighs trembling, his breathing having finally steadied itself. Gladio hugged him tight and kissed his head, hand firm around his cock as he aligned it with Noctis’s opening. But he didn’t push in yet; his heart beat wildly, the time so awfully close. “Okay?” One word for assurance and he almost lost the willpower to keep going.

Muffled in the softness of Noctis’s hair, the king still made out what he had asked and he nodded, responding in hesitancy a murmured, “Okay.”

-

It couldn't have felt more wonderful, more beautiful than when Gladio finally pushed in and guided his aching cock to the deepest point of Noctis, reassuring him through breathless encouragement. His thrusts began slow and steady, gentle and careful as he received just what he had been waiting so long for. Noctis was a mess of moans and stifled cries, the beauty of every sound hanging on Gladio’s ears as he relished how sensual and arousing his deeper, raspier voice was. But to Gladio, everything about Noctis was beautiful. It went without saying, the evidence written all over his body whenever the king was around.

Sweat, heat, desire, the running and splashing of the water onto their naked forms as they rocked and bucked against one another in gorgeous tempo, the echo of their grunts and groans bouncing off the porcelain tiles in a fashion loud enough to disturb the Glacian and the Infernian in their cosmic lovemaking, and the sweetness of their body fluids and inherited scents mingling into so pleasing an aroma that it assailed their senses to the point of incomprehensible human existence.

They belonged to each other, the lack of words between them solidifying how strong, how pure, and how incredibly _perfect_  they were born for each other.

Gladio’s name fell out of Noctis’s soft lips in a slur, unsteady in thought and in speech as his lover pounded into him like his life depended on it. His cock throbbing against and dethroning his prostate had Noctis clawing for the wall in a desperate bid for mercy, gasping for breath. Now his name waltzed on Noctis’s tongue, a chanting for his lover that only caused Gladio to thrust harder, faster and deeper than before, filling him as far past his limit as he could take him. Then, the gods bless him, Gladio’s hot palms found Noctis’s lonely member, spilling limply with pre-cum. He stroked him, steadily and in such a way that made Noctis place his smaller hands over his and follow the motions as if Gladio were leaving him at the entrance to a dark cave, uncertain if he’d come out alive on the other side; his resolute decision to walk with him through any and all darkness.

And in just a blur of a second, Noctis came with a scream. His release more fulfilling than his whole life so far, pressing himself flush against the tile wall as he hung on and rode out his paralyzing orgasm. Gladio gained his satisfying release shortly after, everything he’d done up till now paled in comparison to this amazing moment in his life with whom he so lovingly called his Noctis. Tears fell from both of their eyes, so intense and so fantastic was this thing called sex that Noctis broke down and fell back into Gladio’s arms, finally feeling he could let go and allow those tears to fall without a net to catch them.

And when he felt his strength returning to him, Gladio turned Noctis around to face him and found him looking so weak and so frail, on the verge of sleep, or possibly unconsciousness. The king, his eyes glossy and half-lidded in the exhausting and overwhelming aftermath of sex, attempted a smile at last, his lopsided smirk conveying so much more than words could in his state of lethargy right now.

Desperate to keep him awake, Gladio pressed his lips into his and lowered them both to the floor of the tub, kissing him so lovingly with the same tenderness one might remember from their mother. He didn’t use his tongue this time, only his lips for a gentle kiss, calloused knuckles carefully brushing across the coarse stubble gracing Noctis’s once so soft cheeks. Upon breaking the kiss as their wet lips pulled apart at the edge, he gazed into those gorgeous blue eyes and whispered his name, hoping to call him back from the selfish arms of sleep. “ _Noct_?”

Noctis weakly hummed in reply, snuggling into the warmth and eternal assurance of Gladio’s massive plane of muscle. “I’m here,” he says as he closes his eyes, his voice just barely audible over the rush of running water.

“Noct, I need you to stay with me, okay?”

“Mm,” he mumbles, fingers lacing themselves lazily within Gladio’s, the tiny embrace coming to rest on Noctis’s breast.

“Noct?”

It was no use. He fell asleep.

-

Noctis awoke in a large bed to a dark room, dimly illuminated by the orange glow of a lamp. His eyes searched lazily about the room, landing on Gladio’s freshly showered form standing by the window, his hands locked firmly behind his back. Sitting up, he looked down at himself buried in one of Gladio’s plaid button-ups, his hands barely peeking out of the hems of the sleeves. He had nothing else on, but at least it covered his lower areas. His hair fell all askew over his face, brushing a few strands out of his eyes and running a hand through it, it felt clean and looked a touch sexily messy.

Shifting against the bed was a huge mistake. His ass pulsed in terrible pain and his thighs felt like glue as he tried to move them into a cross-legged position, hissing in protest. Gladio turned toward his lover with a serious look of concern in his ambers, Noctis noting how feral his honeyed eyes made him look in the dark. He’d never seen that before.

“You alright?”, he asks, taking a seat on the bed beside Noctis’s legs.

“Fine,” he replies blankly. “What happened?”

“We, uh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, hair still damp from his shower. “We had sex, Noct. For the first time.”

“I know that. As if the pain in my ass is any indication...” He winced, patting and trying to soothe his aching bottom.

“Did I hurt you?”

Noctis shook his head, but those lines of concern ever-present on Gladio’s face seemed to look worse and worse with each passing minute. It did hurt some, but he couldn’t tell him that. “No,” he lied, “just sore.”

Relief washed over the king when Gladio awkwardly laughed it off. “It’s just ‘cuz you’re not used to me yet. A little too big, huh?”

“That’s a contradiction in and of itself.”

A few laughs here and there, and then it was quiet again. Uncomfortably quiet in that it was still just the two of them, like they were the only two people left in this post-apocalyptic world. The only sounds they heard were the wails and growls of distant daemons and the beating of their hearts against their eardrums. Noctis began playing with his fingers in the silence, rubbing each one between two until he realized something was missing on his right middle finger.

His father’s ring.

He looked up at his lover, half curious and half accusatory. “Gladio,” he motioned to his finger. “Where is it?”

Gladio nodded at his dress pants hanging up on the back of the door. “I slipped it inside your pant pocket. Didn’t want to lose it.” At least he was honest, give him a break.

Noctis said nothing else for a while, still trying to recover from his very first sexual experience. His mind was a jumbled puzzle with all the pieces scattered about in the farthest reaches of his brain, and he had to get on his hands and knees just to find them.

“Y’know,” Gladio said suddenly, studying Noctis’s features carefully. “Without that ring, you look a helluva lot better. Healthier. Your color’s come back.”

The king scratched his stubble before responding. “You think?”

“Mm… yeah, I do. Younger too,” he added with an honest grin.

“Still have to wear it though,” Noctis said, stating the obvious in spite of Gladio’s awareness of that fact. And breaking the warmness of the atmosphere didn’t help.

Gladio couldn’t quite tell, but he wondered if the reason Noctis was acting so strange was because he was trying to distance himself. It was too difficult to make that judgement, but it seemed the most logical and he hated the tension that still lingered between them despite the covenant they had just made. He remained calm though, because if Noctis truly was trying to distance himself from Gladio, he wouldn’t have answered every question with a verbal word.

Gladio feared his silence more than anything right now.

“So, where are we? I don't recognize this place,” Noctis asked, yawning.

The room was small, closely resembling the motel rooms they used to stay in while on the road. A simple full size bed, a side table, ceiling fan and a fancy rug that seemed placed just so in an attempt to create the illusion of riches, decorated the dimmed space. And though he was dead tired, he thought the room felt kind of arousing and romantic. But he was in no way ready for any kind of sex for a while, even his own nakedness bothered him.

Gladio slumped his shoulders and scooted up on the bed, resting his leg sideways. “We’re in the outer ring of the city. Most of what was unscathed in the attack is pretty liveable, even in this state,” he told him. “Thought it’d be a good idea to stay in a recently built apartment building… well, ten years ago recent anyway.”

Noctis raised a brow, voice still unsteady. “But, how did we get here? I thought we were close to the subways? Where is everyone?”

“Still in areas surrounding the Citadel.”

“Then that’s where I should be, too,” the king sighed. “Gladio, please tell me you didn’t…?”

Gladio shrugged at the unspoken suggestion, lacing his fingers together in quiet submission. His avoidance of Noctis’s gaze told the king all he needed to know, and it made him upset.

“Gladio, why? Why did you bring me here? Steal me away from where I have to be?”

“I dunno, I guess I just wanted you to have a comfortable place to sleep and here was the best I could find.”

“There were bunks in the subway.”

“Not _comfortable_  ones.”

“Gladio…”

Gladio stood up with a heaviness in his step and returned to the window, staring emotionless into the ugly, green tint of this darkened world. He ran a hand through his loose, brunette hair, fingers gliding over a scar he’d forgotten about across the curve of his spine.

“Gladio, you can’t keep me here forever. They need their king fighting beside them, but instead I’m lazing around here half-naked,” Noctis scolded gently. “It should be they who deserve to rest, not me.”

No response.

“I’ve been asleep for ten years, it’s time for me to wake up and do something for them. You, included. I wanna do this for you, too, but you’ve gotta step back and let me do what I have to, Gladio.”

“Would you be as upset if you knew Cor asked me to bring you here?” He spoke low and soft, almost as if he were to crack under pressure at any moment.

Noctis removed the covers from his waist and fingered the black and white tassels at the hem. “Then you’d be lying.”

“There’s merit in that,” he says, turning the stick attached to the blinds to close them.

“Not in dishonesty,” Noctis said, stealing the pennant from his lover’s court.

“What if I told you _Iggy_  asked me to bring you here? So you could recover in private?”

“Then you’d have two stones around your neck to answer for.”

“Dammit, Noct!” His fist hit the plaster wall, a dull thump that ended as soon as it began. He stood, hand on his hip and his other over his mouth trying to form some words for an excuse to receive a get-out-of-jail-free card. “What do you want me to say? ‘Cuz I’m not sorry for this,” he cuts sharply, frustrated and irritated by Noctis’s constant badgering. “I didn’t take you all the way out here just to have you yell at me and tell me I’m a fucking idiot for wanting you all to myself. The fact is, Noct, both Cor and Iggy know you’re here with me, I just forgot to tell them why.”

“Intentionally, right? That’s the reason why you’re getting so defensive?”

“Didn’t think I’d have to defend myself against you. You’re making it sound like what we did meant nothing,” he said with a hint of brokenness in his tone, stepping back over to the bed.

Noctis sat silent, playing with his hands in his lap. This wasn’t how he wanted this to start, and it wasn’t how he wanted it to end. But the truth had to be spoken, and it had to come out now before things got any worse; even if he hurt Gladio’s heart beyond repair. “Gladio, I…” And the _truth_  was, Noctis hurt himself. “I wanted it to mean something, but none of that is important right now. We need to focus on more than just ourselves.”

“I’ve done that for a whole fucking decade already. I won’t do it again.” Gladio glared at him, without guilt and without shame. It caused Noctis to rethink his words carefully.

“Can I ask you something?”

Gladio nodded, face softening again, but only by the slightest margin.

“What did it mean to _you_?”

Ah, now he was forced to drop his guard. The soft, helpless tone with which Noctis asked him that question had blanketed all the anger he held inside and taken him by the hand. If it hadn’t been for his resolute nature to stand stronger than Noctis in all situations, he would’ve fallen to his knees and broken down. He was so close to it, but what helped him keep it together was the way Noctis looked at him with those deep, blue eyes: adoringly, lovingly, and with the same admiration he’d always held him to, striving to be just as strong as he since childhood.

Truth is brightest in the dark, whether figuratively or in reality. And if Noctis wasn’t holding anything back, then why should he? The ugliest and most trying times brought out the best… and the worst in everyone, even Gladio. Clearing the dirt from their relationship was the only way they could come clean, honest, and without keeping any secrets from one another. There was no sugarcoating his feelings this time, but then again, he’d always been one for the cold, hard truth.

Despite the risks of wounding himself and others, he favored ruination and utter destruction of a relationship unto rubble than to go on living a lie.

He took his place on the bed once more and sat closer to Noctis, hand resting on his thigh. He looked him straight in the face and answered firmly, all inhibitions lifting like a fog from his sunken spirit. “It meant _everything_  to me.”

Noctis opened his mouth, but couldn’t say anything. His heart hurt like someone had ripped it out of his chest, beat it till it bled, and then stuffed it back in upside down. “I, um…” He lowered his gaze. “I wanted it to mean everything to me too, but…”

“‘But’ what?”

“But I can’t give in to those feelings now, Gladio. I’ve wanted this for us since, well, since forever. You have to understand, I can’t afford to let myself get swept up in that way of thinking because if I do, I’ll trap myself and you, and I just can’t do that to you.”

“Okay,” he held up his hand, annoyed with his lover’s self-pitying responses. “Just speak for yourself, Noct. I wanna hear how _you_  feel, forget about me for now.”

“How can I? It’s more than just _my_  heart at stake here,” he said, lifting his head to look into Gladio’s copper orbs. “You know as well as I do that a king’s duty is to his people before himself, and I have to live up to that when it-”

“You’re also human, Noct.”

Noctis cocked his head, gazing at him sheepishly. “You think I forget that sometimes, don’t you?”

He gave him a stiff smile. “You do.”

“I think you know me a little too well, Gladio…”

Gladio made a sympathetic click of his tongue, hand rubbing soothingly up and down Noctis’s thigh. Then his eyes caught sight of that what must be an awfully painful hickey on the side of his lover’s neck, and he frowned, allowing himself to feel resentment for how rough he had been with him for his first time. “It’s not your fault, Noct,” he offered warmly, his deep tenor voice hugging his king’s ears. “You acted just a little too logical for your own good.”

Noctis peered at him from under his raven stragglers, his sly smirk hiding a great deal of emotion. “Reasonable.”

“Sensible,” he argued lightly.

“Stubborn,” he admitted with a heavy sigh.

“Noct, no…”

Noctis shook his head of Gladio’s heartfelt empathy. “Yes… Yes. I was too stubborn. You know nothing in this world means more to me than you, Gladio, and I let so many other useless things come between us that it only drove us further apart. I’ve loved you for so long, and then having the chance to be alone with you… and the time we could finally be intimate after ten years… I ruined it for you… and for myself.”

Gladio took his hand and kissed his knuckles, bringing it up to his scruffy cheek. “You’ve changed, Noct. Not in a bad way, but in one that you don’t allow yourself to feel all the things a human should be allowed to feel in the right and wrong times. I remember how bratty you used to act when you didn’t get your way, especially at dinner. Or when we’d camp and you’d whine about that… Or-”

Noctis laughed, genuinely and freely at how fleeting his moody disposition seemed to him in hindsight. How many times he took for granted the lack of responsibility and consequences for his actions; even for something as small as pouting about his turn for a shower in the motel, or when Prompto would use up all the hot water and he’d have a fit. Childish, but damn cute in Gladio’s eyes.

The king smiled, his dark stubble adding so much charm to his already pleasant features. “I really caused you guys a lot of trouble, didn’t I?”

Gladio returned the gesture, beaming. “Yeah, but we loved every second of it. It was what made you you, Noct.”

“Am I still… me?”

He leant in over Noctis’s belly and draped the covers back over his lover’s form, his face mere inches from his lips. “Every tiny piece of your beautiful body, _my love_ …”

Noctis choked on his tears, voice breaking as Gladio moved closer to kiss him. “ _Gladio_ …”

He placed himself above the king as he took his lips in a slow, deep kiss, pushing him ever so softly against the mattress as Noctis moaned his pleasure from the gentle tongue caressing his own in a warm, wet embrace. It lasted for a few sweet minutes, hands weaving through one another’s hair as their tongues danced to the song of alternating moans from both creatures.

It wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t needy, and it wasn’t tense. The realness in this moment wrapped them both up like a caterpillar carefully and precisely preparing its cocoon just perfectly enough for the long slumber it had been born to endure. It was beautiful, tender, and so _right_.

This is what they had long dreamed of, and finally, it was here.

When it ended, Gladio let his head drop on Noctis’s soft breast in a gasp of heavy breath, panting in time with his king’s steady heartbeat. His hands snuck around and laced together gently against the base of Noctis’s spine, holding him flush to his own firmly toned chest. Noctis smoothed down his lover’s brunette mane, fingers massaging along his nape and it made him groan in pleasure.

This was their time to be, and to become. To just… _love_ , as they were meant to.

In spite of the pain consuming Noctis’s body, the doubts echoing in their minds, and the unrelenting gnaw of duty at their throats, they made love in the silence of their dark confines; the second time even sweeter and more beautiful than the first, for both Noctis and Gladio.

And then they just lay there face to face, entwined in one another’s arms beneath the disheveled sheets, reveling in the afterglow of their amazing sex. Sapphire eyes illuminated a haunting glow while copper ones shone the warmth of a tender light. Shy yet happy smirks played on their soft, swollen lips as they found joy in each other’s company. There was no need for words anymore, just the quiet reassurance of their presences comforting one another.

Noctis fell asleep just as Gladio pressed one more kiss to his soft, exposed shoulder, following in his king’s footsteps shortly afterward.

-

“Majesty,” Cor called from the small rest area they had set up as a rendezvous point, the large tent full of supplies and a few Kingsglaive soldiers taking well-deserved breaks beside each other, comforting their sorrows and their doubts.

Noctis turned as the marshal approached him and witnessed one of the soldiers being carried limply by two others to a quiet place for rest. He was dead, sadly, fallen in their most recent battle. It hit him hard, but he refrained from crying. Perhaps in a world of peace may he finally be allowed to weep and mourn for those he had lost. “Gavin?”

Cor nodded solemnly, the wrinkles framing his lips crinkled into a firm line. “Yes, Majesty. He was a good man, brave too. He wouldn’t have stopped for anything.”

“I’m sorry,” Noctis offered softly, feeling the weight of reality returning to his shoulders when a young Kingsglaive woman came to the king and bowed.

“Majesty,” she said. “May we have permission to bury our comrade? I knew him personally, sir, and it would help me to see him at peace.”

“Yes, of course,” he answered with a sympathetic frown. He noticed the gleaming streaks on her face from forcing her tears to seize. She bowed once more, but before she walked away, Noctis placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry for your loss. And please… if it helps you, any of you, do as you wish. You don’t have to ask me for permission, alright?”

She wouldn’t have allowed herself to smile, even to the king. “Thank you, sir.”

His dark blue eyes didn’t leave her till she disappeared from sight. “Cor.”

“Majesty?”

The king felt his forehead, the dizziness and hot sweats from nervous disposition returned. “I need some time to… gather myself. Could you…?”

Cor bowed, patting his king’s arm. “Of course, Majesty. Take all the time you need.”

And he did.

He wandered the grounds alone, avoiding any and all other human interaction for the sake of preserving his sanity. So much loss had occurred in what little time they had been in Insomnia, and Noctis just needed a rest from it all; he felt personally responsible for every single life lost.

Upon entering the weapons tent, he found Gladio giving an encouragement speech to his fellow Kingsglaive soldiers, the look on his face one of pained resolution in the face of death. Noctis stood by the entrance half impatiently and half entranced by the words that left his lover: strong, firm and above all, empathetic.

When one soldier noticed the king’s presence, all other soldiers followed suit and turned to acknowledge him in their fold out metal chairs. Gladio stopped mid sentence, his mouth hanging open. But then he nodded at his lover and gave him a slight smile. “Take a break,” he tells the tiny assembly, deep and authoritatively powerful. “For at least fifteen minutes, gather yourselves and prepare for the next battle: emotionally and physically.”

Striding up to his lover, and before he could speak, Noctis grabbed his arm and pulled him around to the back of a large, what used to be a bicycle shop, and yanked him down by his coat to kiss him. Gladio was quick to get into the motion, holding his waist tight as Noctis wrapped his arms around his neck to bring him closer. Tongues met in needy laps, reaching for each other as their kiss became deeper. Noctis lifted his leg up and curled it around his lover’s hip, but the grunt Gladio made told him no and he lowered it, moaning in protest.

“Gladio,” Noctis panted hard, smothered by Gladio’s hot mouth. “I can’t… I need you…”

“I know,” he breathed, knowing how weak his king felt just by the tremble in his soft lips. “Me too…”

It went on like this after every battle. One of them approaching the other to find solace in each other’s arms, Gladio’s being the ones most frequented. Noctis couldn’t handle this alone, and the closer they got to the Citadel, the harder it was for him to restrain himself from hiding inside Gladio’s embrace. Their kisses lasted for about five minutes each, fleeting but so meaningful, before Noctis broke down in tears once again.

To hold onto whatever it was they had at last, it meant everything to them both. Whether it was security, comfort, or just plain love at the end of the world, they would hold on as tightly as they dared. They would keep this thing alive, until it wasn’t.

“ _I love you_ ,” Noctis says, heard by the only heart big enough to hold both of them. And the feeling was mutual.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my heart's desires!!!


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